Authors: Brian MacLearn
Allison stood facing me and ripped me with a few bullets of her own. “Melissa sure is nice! I like her. Oh, and she filled me in on the town,” she said with a smirk and, instinctively, I touched my arm to see if it was still attached to my body. At such close range the bullets should have torn it off.
“We’re going to try and get together later at the dance. Melissa said she and Scott would be there and we should try to find them.”
I couldn’t help but interpret, “filled in about town,” to mean: “Here’s what you need to know about Jason?” It’s not that Mel was one of the few girls in school who were vicious in their gossip, in fact; she was instead, one of the nicest girls in my class. She and I had never gone out. For me, I had only dated sporadically the last couple of years and never seriously. Still, I felt like I had just been tried before a Judge and Jury. It would have been nice to keep Allison all to myself, but that was a totally ridiculous thought anyway. I would have to face the music and realize, sooner than later, Allison would know more about me than I probably even knew about myself. I was reasonably sure the jury would find me innocent. I still worried, though, because it might not be a unanimous vote.
We headed out the door and back towards the park. Allison asked me if we could do the three-legged race. I tried to explain to her that it was for little kids, but she wouldn’t change her mind. She said it was something she had always wanted to do. She had read about it in a book long ago and thought it was cute. I conceded, but not after several more attempts to change her mind. I made sure that, before we got to the race, we took the time to stop at the dunking booth. When we got there, Mr. Chadwick, the football coach, was just making his exit from the booth. He looked like a drowned rat, and I was dejected at missing an opportunity to keep him submerged. Mr. Chadwick was all smiles as the crowd cheered him on for being such a good sport. He was also the assistant baseball coach and forever looking for future players. He made a point of telling one of the kids as he passed by, he should come out and join the baseball team. He made his way over to his youngest daughter, sweeping her up and into his wet embrace. She screamed in hysterical laughter at getting wet, but relished the moment with her father.
Next up on the wet seat was Dick O’Malley, owner of the downtown hardware store. He was in his late forties and true to his last name. I’m not positive what an Irishman is supposed to be like, but he could break out in a brogue that would make you swear you were in the midst of a leprechaun ball. To my limited knowledge, he was of pure midwestern heritage and had never even been to Ireland. Grandpa used to say his parents came here from Oregon, by way of a little town out west called Ireland Falls, and that is all the Irish Dick ever had any claim to. His knack for Irish flair was something he picked up in his childhood and developed into an art form over the years. The townsfolk never got tired of listening to him speak with his Irish accent. It was his signature and he embraced it— aye! That he did.
Dick had on his green “God Smiles on the Irish” tee shirt. Today, he went all out, and his hair was died bright red. If there was attention to garner, Dick was in the midst of it. He struck a few musclemen poses before climbing up the ladder mounted to the side of the tank. He took his spot suspended over the water. The price to play was fifty cents for one ball or three for a dollar. Allison and I stood in line behind several other eager participants. Dick would put his thumbs in his ears and make moose horns; all the while he’d puff out his cheeks and cross his eyes, trying to distract the person throwing the softball.
Thirteen-year-old Tad Watson was the first to send Mr. O’Malley to the depths of the frigid water, and right in mid sentence too. Dick came up sputtering, his wet hair running red coloring down his face. He shook the water out of his hair and wiped the water from his eyes. He reset the seat and climbed back on. His perch was short lived, as Tad took him down again with his last ball. All of the people standing around began giving Tad high fives and pats on the back.
To his credit, Dick O’Malley never lost his wit, continuing to egg on all the throwers and smiling the whole time. When it was our turn, I paid for three balls and let Allison throw the first two. Her first one just nicked the target, but not enough to drop the seat and dunk Mr. O’Malley. He really got going, trying to distract her on the second ball, and succeeded as it sailed way high over the target. When it was my turn, Mr. O’Malley blew a big raspberry my way and said I threw like a girl. I stuck my finger in my mouth to get it wet. In a mock gesture of attempting to test the wind direction, I raised it in the air. That sent several of the people around us into laughter. Dick O’Malley gave me his best set of wiggly moose ears and I dropped him into the drink. He popped up from under the water, and we both pointed our fingers at each other at nearly the same time. I gave him my best boy scout salute and he grinned from ear to ear. Allison pulled at my arm and, reluctantly, I let her lead me away from the dunking booth and toward the area roped off for the three-legged race.
Dr. Preston Doringhaus was in charge of the race, and his wife, Tami, collected the entry fee of three dollars per pair. The only qualification for entry was that each pair must be one male and one female; age didn’t matter. I suppose the Dr. was a good choice to run the show in case someone happened to get hurt. The races ran non-stop throughout the day to accommodate all of the ready and willing people, wanting to give it a shot. The next race was scheduled for three o’clock, and we had less than ten minutes to get there and sign up. I did my best to be a dead weight, but Allison was more persistent in pulling me along. I gave in to my pending fate and hustled along with her. We paid our money, and Tami Doringhaus instructed us to stand side by side as she tied two yellow ribbons around our legs, one above the knee and the other at our ankles. She directed us to move towards the far end of the field and stand on the big spray-painted blue dot.
The winners of each race would win his and hers matching tee shirts. The words, “Cedar Junction Champion Leggers, nineteen ninety-eight,” were depicted on the back. The second G was flipped backward to represent legs tied together. The tee shirts were light green, the letters in black. What stood out the most was the bright yellow ribbon tying the two G’s together. The ends of the ribbon dangled below the bottom of the letters. It was all Allison and I could handle, just trying to move together to get to our designated spot.
We took the extra time, before the race began to experiment with the best way to move together. It was Allison’s right leg and my left leg tied together. Even though our knees and hips easily moved in sync, my stride was considerably longer than hers, and the pull of her leg threw my timing off. I tried to adjust to stay within her range. After about five minutes, we had it down pretty well. I was feeling much better about our chances to make it to the other side, winning would be extra cherries on the sundae.
Allison was all smiles, and seeing the look on her face, I was suddenly glad we were a part of the race. I originally perceived it as dumb and childish, but the sensation of our legs touching and her arm around my waist changed my mind. I was the one who was really dumb. I was pretty certain this would be one of those moments I would not likely forget. We surveyed the competition around us and made comments about who might give us the biggest challenge. By this time, neither of us doubted that we were going to win. We both started to laugh when we saw Matt standing in line to enter the contest. Allison asked me who the girl was he was with. I told her it was Dani Benson, a girl that Matt had gone out with a few times toward the end of school. Allison just said, “Oh, I see.”
We decided Matt looked more reluctant than even I did, about his taking part in the race. When he saw us, his face took on a nice red hue. Dani saw me and waved, so I waved back. Matt gained a darker shade of red. Matt and I locked eyes, and then, after I grinned he did too. I raised my index finger to let him know that Allison and I were going to come in first and he shook his head no, running his finger across his neck to indicate that we couldn’t cut it. We both laughed, and then he and Dani began their own practice routine, trying to get their own rhythm down before the race started. There were spots for eight couples to run each race. I couldn’t stop the anticipation from growing inside of me. I was unexpectedly excited to start the race. Matt and Dani and Allison and I were the only high school kids in this race. There were a couple of father daughter combinations and mother and son pair too. To my surprise, there were three adult couples in the race. I thought it would be more little kids, instead. Everyone around us looked to be having a great time, and I began to really enjoy the moment as well.
Dr. Doringhaus stepped out on the field and instructed all of us to take our positions on the colored dots. I felt Allison’s arm tighten around my waist. She sent a chill up my spine. I was close to falling from that tightrope, but I didn’t care. I let the amazing sensation of her touch flow through me.
What an idiot I am,
ran through my head, as I realized how I had almost blown a great opportunity. I looked over at Matt, one more time, and saw a similar kind of smile on his face. He looked my way. We nodded at each other, mouthed, “we’re going to win,” to each other, then turned our focus ahead to the race. Allison squeezed me a little tighter, and when she looked up into my eyes and asked me, “Ready partner?” I responded that I was, but I wasn’t.
When Dr. Doringhaus began the countdown chant, “Ready…Set…” I was primed to be the first across the finish line, and when he said, “Go,” Allison and I raced out to a quick lead. After the great start I couldn’t see how we could lose. Allison and I were moving in perfect rhythm and separating ourselves from the rest of the pack. Then I did it. I started to stretch out my stride and, after a couple of steps, I threw Allison’s timing off, and we began to lose control. By then, it was too late to correct and we tumbled to the ground. I broke my fall and cushioned the impact for Allison by rolling on to my back and pulling her on top of me. We might have been able to get back up and finish, but in that unexpected moment neither of us made the slightest effort to move. My heart was already beating at a higher pace, but with Allison lying on top of me, it began pounding wildly. I was acutely aware of every inch of my body where it came in contact with her. Her long hair fell softly against my face, and I could smell the strawberry scent from her shampoo. I breathed it in deeply. Somewhere the tightrope snapped, and I fell into the abyss.
It was like a movie being played in slow motion. In reality, it couldn’t have lasted much longer than mere seconds. Allison raised her head from my chest and stared deeply into my eyes. This is the look that will haunt my dreams for years to come and invade the very psyche of my soul. With her hair falling forward and silhouetting her face, I gazed into eyes that electrified and captivated me. My heart leapt to my throat and my stomach knotted. I could feel the heat radiate from her closeness with me, but when she smiled, I burned within from a fire like no other. The great poets of the past have it wrong. I wasn’t lost in her eyes that day…I was found.
I could have stayed there with Allison like that forever. I broke the silence with a simple, “You okay?” She just nodded, and I could feel her heart racing just as fast as mine. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were full of life. I smiled and then so did she. There was nothing that needed to be said. It was the moment that bound us together, just like the two yellow ribbons still wound around our legs. Two souls had touched, starting the rare journey that happens when two people who were meant to be connected, find each other.
We both got up off the ground, the ribbons loosened, but our legs were still tied together. I wasn’t ready to release them or us from the bindings. With our arms still around each other we surveyed the field and saw that one of the older couples had won the race. They were in the midst of a deep embrace, and I unexpectedly had a memory of my parents looking the same way, deeply in love. It was a beautiful and happy thought. I forced it out of my mind before I found away to turn it ugly with my feelings about my father. I instinctively hugged Allison closer to me, and she responded by tickling my side with her fingers. I did a jerky dance, nearly causing us to tumble again. She tickled me more as she broke into a fit of laughter. She stopped, allowing me to regain some of my dignity and composure. We snuggled even tighter as we made our way across the finish line and through the exit from the three-legged race.
Matt and Dani had already untied their legs and they were waiting for us just outside of the race area. I didn’t even have to ask, just like me and, by the look on Matt’s face, he had gotten a lot more out of the race than he had bargained for. Dani’s arm was still wrapped tightly around his waist, like Allison’s was around me. We exchanged glances with perfect understanding.
All he said to me was, “You buy the drinks! We won.” I laughed and nodded in agreement.
Allison and Dani started talking, first introducing themselves, and chatting as easily as two long-time friends. Every second I spent with Allison made me feel more and more comfortable. She had the ability to put others at ease and make me smile before I even knew I was doing it. As she talked with Dani, I released my hold on her and went about untying our legs. The knot above our knees was easy enough to loosen, but the ribbon around our ankles had become stretched and the knot bound tightly. Matt could tell that I wasn’t going to be able to get it undone very easily, so he offered me his keychain, with the mini Swiss knife attached to it.
I opened the blade from the knife and, before I could begin sawing through the ribbon Allison stopped me. With an air of panic in her voice she proclaimed, “No, don’t cut it! It would bring bad luck. I think it should always stay knotted.”